


The First Time

by PepperF



Series: First Time / Second Time [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-10
Updated: 2011-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-20 07:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperF/pseuds/PepperF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a first time for everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Time

The first time they saved the Earth, it was a pretty big deal. Not that it wasn't a big deal on all the subsequent Earth-salvages, but there's always something... more intense about a first time.

It had been a long few days. They'd blown up a couple of spaceships, narrowly escaping with their lives. They'd thought Daniel was dead, only to find he'd survived, against the odds. They'd had a flight in a spaceship – not a sci-fi, alien spaceship, but a real Earth spaceship, with no artificial gravity, and all the labels in English. It had been more real, somehow.

Jack sat on the edge of a bed in the officer's quarters, deep under Cheyenne Mountain, and spectacularly failed to feel in the slightest bit sleepy. He was exhausted, no doubt about that – just unable to wind down. He'd been staring at a point in space for the last – god, an hour? – just twiddling with his cap, turning it endlessly round and round, his thoughts performing much the same dance. There was a knock.

"Come in!"

Carter peeped in, somewhat tentatively. She looked relieved to see him up and dressed. "Am I disturbing you, sir?"

"Nah. Can't sleep."

"Me either," she sighed.

He liked that. Liked it when she relaxed enough in his presence to talk to him like a friend, and not a commanding officer. It was happening more often lately. Since Antarctica, in fact. Nothing made a friendship like curling up together to die.

Still, it was late, and he really should be trying to sleep. Lying down, closing his eyes... reliving those last moments on Klorel's ship... No, he wouldn't be sleeping any time soon.

"Something I can do for you, Captain?"

"Do you think we're going to be court-martialled, sir?"

Well. Direct and to the point – like she'd been worrying about it for hours. Knowing Carter, she probably had. "Sit down, willya?" Gingerly, she sat beside him on the bed. The door was open, so he figured that was okay. "Carter, we just saved the planet. I think a few broken orders aren't gonna be an issue."

"Yeah, but sir... they were pretty major orders. We went AWOL through the Stargate."

"And saved the _planet_."

"We risked our lives and the security of this base – of this planet – all on the word of one member of the team who was talking about alternate realities."

"And _saved_ the _planet_." She didn't seem to be finding this a completely convincing argument. "Listen, Carter, we proved Daniel right. No one can argue that Earth wasn't in danger. Everyone saw the big honkin' spaceships. I'm glad we did it, and I'd do it again – wouldn't you?" She looked frustrated. He tried another tack. "'Sides, Hammond is on our side, and I suspect the President will be, too." She looked a little more hopeful. "And we brought home some alien technology." She looked startled. "Oh, didn't I mention it?" he asked airily, repressing a smirk. "I pocketed one of those zat gun thingies. It's with the science boys on Level 19 at the moment."

"Sir, with your permission-"

Prepared for her reaction, he grabbed her arm before she had the chance to dash off. This was why he hadn't already told her. "Denied, Captain," he said, sternly. She looked at him in dismay. "When did you last get a good night's sleep?"

"But, sir, the _zat_..."

"'But, sir,' nothing," he frowned. "Get some sleep. It'll still be there in the morning." God, for a moment the thought of Charlie on Christmas Eve grabbed his insides and twisted so _hard_ that he had to swallow a lump in his throat before he spoke again. "That's an order, Captain."

"Yes, sir," she sighed, and slumped. "I am pretty tired," she admitted, after a pause.

"Me, too. Can't sleep, though. Every time I close my eyes..." he trailed off, feeling suddenly uncertain. She didn't seem to notice his sudden wariness.

"Yeah. I keep thinking about what could have happened – all the times we might've screwed up."

"I keep remembering leaving Daniel." The words were past his lips without the intervention of his brain. She looked sharply at him, really seeing him for the first time. He flinched at the sudden understanding in her clear blue eyes, dropping his eyes to the cap that was still in his hand.

"But he got out," she said softly. "He's okay."

"Through no help of mine. I left him to die."

"You had no choice, sir. And it all worked out."

"I know, but-"

"No use dwelling on the what-ifs. Isn't that what you've just been trying to tell me?"

He meant to give her a glare. He really did. But the moment he turned his head to look at her, he was overwhelmed with the sudden desire to... to put his arms around her and pull her close. Not for any more reason than because she was there, and alive, and his friend, and that fact made him suddenly, fiercely glad. If there was any reason to keep doing what he did, this was it – this feeling right now. Knowing that she was okay. Knowing that his team was okay. Knowing that Hammond, and the rest of the SGC, and his next-door neighbors, and his dad's old fishing buddies, and even that idiot Kinsey (well, maybe not him...), and the rest of the world were okay.

He realized he'd been staring. She hadn't broken the gaze, though, and was looking pretty overwhelmed herself. "Wow," she said, softly.

"What?" You know, she was really pretty.

"We just saved the planet."

"Yeah. We did." Really pretty. Prettier than anyone else in this dingy old hole in the ground. And she'd no doubt kick his ass seven ways from Sunday if he ever said anything like that to her face.

Well. Were they having a moment? It sure felt like it. He dropped his gaze, banishing all such thoughts, and she shook herself slightly – he felt it as the mattress bounced slightly. Which reminded him of their position – sat side-by-side on a bed – and despite the open door it suddenly felt a little too close to the edge of regulations.

"Go get some sleep, Captain," he said gruffly.

"Yes, sir. You too," she added. "I heard what Doctor Frasier said."

He scowled, without meaning it. "Tin-plated dictator with delusions of godhood," he muttered. Silence. He chanced a look up. She was looking dangerous. "I meant Doc Frasier," he clarified, nervously.

"I'll tell her you said that," she said – not threatening, just matter-of-fact. Oh yeah, he was in for it on his next post-mission check-up.

"Go, go away," he said, shooing her up off the bed and out the door. "I'm tired, so anything I say can't be held against me."

"That defense'll never hold up in court, sir," she said cheekily, as she departed. "Or against Janet. Sleep well. Dream of big, honkin' needles."

Grr. Smartass doctors. Any and all of 'em.

Oddly content, he threw aside the cap, removed his boots at long last, and settled down in the bed, folding his hands across his chest. His eyelids were getting heavier by the moment. Yeah, trust Carter to give him sweet goddamn dreams. Trust Carter...

Zzzzzzzzzzz.

\---

THE END


End file.
